


Yen

by Azia



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: (But Not Really Actually... You'll See), (I Didn't Tag Their "Relationship" for a Reason), Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:06:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azia/pseuds/Azia
Summary: Shuichi is ninety percent sure that he has a cold, but Korekiyo is ninety percent sure that he is possessed. They talk about everything but that.(Just as a flower needs a particular environment to flourish and grow, so does the human soul and body. Put it in a hostile and harsh environment, deprive it of what it needs, then you will watch it deteriorate slowly and eventually die.)





	Yen

> SESSION I: _PRAGMA_  
>  a convenient type of love. rational. realistic. pragmatic lovers ultimately want to work with their partner to reach a common goal.  
>  [see: _pride and prejudice_.]

Akamatsu Kaede: perfection. Nothing more, nothing less. Sister would be most grateful if she received the Ultimate Pianist as her next gift.

But Saihara Shuichi: still unknown. Of course, not a contender for Sister – not now, not _ever_ as long as Korekiyo was breathing the facilitated air in this jailhouse Academy – but still needed a thorough evaluation nonetheless. No stone would be left unturned, and fellow people were no exception.

So he went to him. And spoke with him.

Spoke with him about their current certain circumstances, the direness (Shuichi) and beauty (Korekiyo) of their situation, and then about the various theories that Korekiyo could grasp to remember about humanity and fear. Once they had reached the topic of anxiety and how Korekiyo noticed that lately it was a popular subject, he couldn’t hinder the sense of surprise that manifested in a slight flutter in the stomach and widening of the eyes that Shuichi was still actively keeping up with the conversation and willingly contributing and was… _interested_. He was all around _interested_ in what Shinguji Korekiyo had to say.

“—though it may be popular, my personal favorite is love.”

“L-Love? But… that isn’t a mental condition, Shinguji-kun… right?”

“Ah, quite the contrary,” Korekiyo held one of his fingers up, “love has been cited as a ‘mental disease’ and ‘madness’ throughout history. A classic example, of course, would be _Romeo and Juliet_.”

“Ah, I see… I think.” Usually people would dismiss the notion whenever Korekiyo tried to mention it (if he even got so far into the conversation with someone to express his views on the topic), but Shuichi wasn’t waving his words off as nonsense. He was still genuinely curious, still quietly asking questions here and there.

No one had been quite as attentive of him since… _Sister_ No. Korekiyo had to close his eyes for a brief moment to gather himself again before he could launch fully into the discussion once more. The thought was more than blasphemous. He didn’t even know how it came to mind in the first place.

\--

His dream began as something to be expected. Whenever he locked his eyes on a new target, he would dream about eliminating them. Dream of Sister’s smile as she gleefully accepted her newest friend. Dream of blood rushing down his palms as he cleared the evidence away with a familiar lightheartedness that made him float higher than straw rope ever could.

The unexpected came in the form of Saihara Shuichi, kneeling by his side, dressed in the similar overzealous, traditional attire that Korekiyo would wear if he was outside of the Academy, full-fledged into giving into the illusion that was the Caged Child ritual. But he had always been alone before. The “helpers” that he collected along the way could never count. They were being fooled, too deep in the midst of trickery to be anything more than just “puppets.” But with Shuichi by his side, like he was some sort of disciple, waiting on further instruction…

“You may stand,” Korekiyo murmured. And the other listened.

“Shall I set the circle?” _God_. The faintest of shivers slowly trailed down Korekiyo’s spine. Even in his dreams, that voice was still like honey dripping on water.

“You may.” And so it was done.

\--

There were things that Korekiyo couldn’t talk about. Well, to put it more accurately, there were _many_ things that Korekiyo couldn’t talk about. So many thoughts swirled and danced and jumbled around in his mind, just begging for escape but never having their wishes granted.

The latest hot topic was Akamatsu Kaede.

He had been so close to sending a murderer up to befriend Sister. Had Korekiyo misjudged her? He had never misjudged before – not according to the span of memory that his mind still contained. But then again – and this is where the conflict came – if he used that line of logic, then Sister would be unable to accept him too, because he was a murderer also. So, he soothed his mind with the easy solution of how both Kaede and his motives were just and Sister would be able to forgive them. She would be able to understand the desire of wanting to set one’s friends free and of wanting the one you love to never have to taste loneliness again.

Korekiyo couldn’t talk about how he was relishing in the sweet sense of Shuichi’s pity either, and the small seed of confidence that was surely going to slowly bloom and blossom into something truly wonderful thereafter. So, Korekiyo summed up his thoughts with a quiet, “—the weak are meat, but the strong eat. This reminds of me of a story but… I can see that you are fatigued. We did have to overcome a strenuous trial—especially you. So,” Korekiyo nodded, “I will bid you a good night.”

The darkness brewing underneath Shuichi’s eyes, just barely visible from the shade of the brim of his hat, was undeniable. Even Korekiyo had some sense of awareness to send his fellow inmate off to bed. He needed it. He needed a good night’s rest and more for the surefire cocktail of emotion that was going to brew up in his heart and mind over the following few days. He had lost and been betrayed by a fellow comrade. What more could be said?

But Shuichi wasn’t walking away. His fists clenched and unclenched for a moment, and his jaw might have too, before he murmured ever so softly in that breaking voice, “I-Is it the one story about the princess that sacrificed herself for the prince and their people? I… I-I don’t remember what it was called though…” Korekiyo couldn’t even stop the widening of his eyes this time around.

“Y-Yes.” He cleared his throat and willed his expression to a neutral one again. Eyes were telling of so many emotions and it had taken some time for Korekiyo to properly portray and conduct his persona. “That was precisely what I was thinking of.” _You never seize to amaze me, Saihara-kun_ , was just at the tip of his tongue, but Shuichi was turning around now.

“I-I don’t really feel too well. I’m going to bed now. Goodnight, Shinguji-kun.”

“Yes, of course. Have a good night, Saihara-kun.”

\--

Due to having such a rich knowledge reigning over many things historical, such themes would rise up in Korekiyo’s dreams. Tonight was a favorite of his: the passion of the cute sleeve. He was a king, lying in a Chinese temple with straw floors and white walls bathed in the golden light of the swelling sun. Sister was on his right side, as usual, but the unusualness settled in: her back was turned to him. He only got a face full of long, dark hair. And he feel a weight on his left side also.

Shuichi.

Shuichi facing him, sleeping, snuggled into his side, huffing soft breaths against his neck, fingers tangled into the opened front of his robe.

And thus rose another conflict.

When Korekiyo awoke (with a lingering warmth against his left side only), he knew what he needed to do. He needed to release some of the repressed thoughts. He needed to speak to Sister.

But she wasn’t answering. No matter how long he was on his knees, searching – she was silent.

He blamed it (perhaps not rightfully, but he was quickly approaching a state of panic, so he had to blame it on something) the air conditioning. It might have been malfunctioning. He had to be shivering for a reason. It was too cold in the room. It was weakening her presence.

He went to Miu first. “—don’t fucking care if you give me a scary look, Shitgunji, it’s too fucking late to be repairin’ _anything_ and this gorgeous body needs it’s fucking beauty rest!”

He went around the Academy second. Anywhere that he could recall Rantaro and Kaede frequenting. Perhaps exploring the possible locations that the recently departed spirits loitered could hold some essences of Sister, passing by and conversing briefly as they drifted through the ebbs and flows of the afterlife. He tried to let the thought comfort him as he wrapped his arms around himself in a poor attempt to stop trembling.

And then the worst thing that could have happened appeared right in front of him: Saihara Shuichi, walking oh so casually with a bottle of water in hand. His arm reached upward, toward his hat, but he stopped himself and wrapped both hands around the bottle instead. “I-I was getting water from the warehouse because the kitchen is closed…” He coughed into his fist for a moment before he frowned. “S-Shinguji-kun, are you feeling okay?”

“F-Fine, fine.” He risked wiping the sweat gathering underneath his hat. Shuichi followed his hands.

“Ah, Shinguji-kun…” His eyes flickered downward. “I understand. This is difficult but… I hope that we will get out of here.” His hands tightened around the water bottle. His voice dropped down into a whisper. “I-I wouldn’t wish this upon anyone. And I don’t want to feel this,” he clutched at his chest, over his heart, “anymore. I-I don’t want you to feel this or anyone else… I just want it to be over.” The words were like a balm, soothing over the festering wound searing into Korekiyo’s mind. He could actually feel his heart stop fluttering, his mind to stop racing.

_Why? Why does he have such an effect on you?_

So Korekiyo said something quick and useless before he did all but sprint away. He couldn’t possibly host two freak outs with such a short interval of calm in between. Hopefully their chance encounter was never going to be brought up again.

> SESSION II: _MANIA_  
>  a type of love that leads a partner into a type of madness and obsessiveness. a “need” for their partner. love is a means of rescue or a reinforcement of value. codependency. very possessive and jealous. anxious about falling in love. having expectations of pain. overwhelmed by thoughts of their partner. easily frustrated.  
>  [see: _fatal attraction_ or _misery_.]

More and more and more dreams of Shuichi. It was admittedly intoxicating, but also suffocating. No one liked to choke on alcohol. But the sudden influx of all things Saihara Shuichi had to mean something.

It had to be a sign from Sister. What else could it be?

But what could it mean? Did she want for him to let go of her and move on? No, never. That couldn’t be it. After some deep thinking during his careful morning routines (because after a sweet dream, there was nothing like taking the time to pamper oneself in the earnest), he boiled it down to three possibilities: Sister had either possessed Shuichi, been reborn again as Shuichi, or simply entrusted Shuichi – all of those theories tied in with the simple fact that Sister was watching after him, as always, and wanted their paths to cross explicitly in a tangible manner during the killing game.

Even the thought was all too much.

He could scratch the idea of rebirth off the list. It seemed the least likely because if Korekiyo could stretch his mind back as far as he could muster (which was an aggravatingly short distance), he could see himself speaking to Sister on her deathbed – not enough room for her to be reborn again. So he was shooting for either possession or just that simple trust.

So that meant more observing. As much observing as he could bear. Which in turn meant spending as much time as he could with the very person he had mentally cursed at and basically ran away from so many fatal nights ago. That meant dropping his superego in favor of letting his ego ride steadily on top of his id, then so be it.

(Was Shuichi confused by the sudden constant companionship? Yes. But was he going to deny it? On account of the lonely void that Kaede left and the fact that he was getting sicker and sicker and it was kind of nice to have someone be at his side, no.)

\--

“—people have been saying love is a mental affliction for centuries,” Korekiyo murmured. It was glorious to be able to continue one of his first conversations with Shuichi again, but the other didn’t seem to be catching the hint. Korekiyo was a romantic at heart – always had been, always will be – but he was always sure and subtle. He littered breadcrumbs everywhere he could: waxing more poetry than usual into his folklore retelling, choosing especially heart wrenching and tender tales, choosing the seat beside the other instead of the one across, using exclusively light and careful tones whenever he spoke – but he just didn’t seem to be getting the program.

“Ah, have they?” Shuichi apologized as he pulled out a tissue from his pocket and wiped his nose. Korekiyo nodded.

“Yes, yes,” he murmured. The forefront of his mental notes consisted of all the evidence he had to gather from Shuichi. The symptoms that he was displaying were only making the diagnosis of possession more and more possible. Shuichi’s quiet complaints whenever he had a headache, the fatigue, the occasional mentions of his nightmares – especially of Kaede and Rantaro or anyone else dying, his reddened eyes, his paler skin, the coughing, the decreased appetite, how he sometimes forgot what he was going to say, how his back ached – possession, possession, possession. _Sister is here. She’s truly here. She’s watching over me_. “Love is a disease, indeed…”

\--

Yet, whether Sister was truly there are not was debatable, the affliction that Korekiyo was developing was undeniable. It crept on to him so slowly and steadily that he failed to notice the nearly overflowing combination of hopeless and desperateness that was hollowing out a home in his chest, the wave of nausea that overcame him after the one hundredth brushstroke against his hair, the sense of tearfulness as he secured his mask for the day, the insomnia and the sadness that would follow when he couldn’t remember his dream, the loss of his already small appetite, the body tremors, the intrusive thoughts ( _Sister, Shuichi, Sister, Shuichi_ ), the neck pain, the mood swings, the occasional forgetting of a plotline to one of his stories – above all: the mania.

But Korekiyo was too busy thinking about others than himself to notice his own symptoms. About how he had woken up a little more tearful and trembling. “Wet dreams” as most called them unfortunately did not pass over him even, and he had woken up clutching the sheets, eyes locked upward on the ceiling, and he would have thanked any or all gods if he believed in them that he didn’t wake up with an empty mind. He could still feel the heavy pants and pets against his skin, the beads of sweat that had gathered on the other’s, the sheer _warmth_ of it all that had invaded his dreams and was invading his senses now. He had no option other than to palm his hand over himself as images of those eyes, those lips, that body danced before him, always teasing, always just out of reach – for now.

The sense of pressure building up inside of him was mere confirmation. Physical relationships had always been in the okay zone but never something that he was completely content with. But it felt plausible now with the promise of emotion being mixed in. The increasing euphoria that was building up inside him didn’t come attached with a faint nagging sense of guilt and just all around _wrongness_ , just _goodness_. Just an orgasm with near sinless passion, one that made his heartbeat accelerate, one that made him have to shove his fingers in his mouth to hinder any noises that would confirm that _yes, this is real – your feelings are real_ because it would have been too much, too soon.

Then the tearfulness began to set in as his body continued to tremble and his mind secreted endorphins and he cleaned the web of stickiness in between his fingers. It was real but it wasn’t reality. Not yet. _When can I seize this opportunity?_ His heart was sighing. He honestly didn’t have an answer.

\--

“Ah, I…” Shuichi paused a brief moment to cough. Then he sighed. It was a messy exhale. “I think we shouldn’t be spending so much time together.”

“…What possessed you to say something like that?”

“Because I think you’re catching my cold and I don’t want you to get sick, Shinguji-kun.” He sounded slightly more congested than usual, but it didn’t matter. Just a small setback in the grand scheme of things. “B-But I really do appreciate your company though. And I really do appreciate how you’ve been taking care of me. Thank you, Shinguji-kun.” And just the mere _thought_ of being separated was unbearable. Unthinkable even. “So, I’ll just go—”

“I have… insatiable desires.” That kept Shuichi rooted in place. “Desires that I will admit that I prefer now rather than later. And the only way to even come close to quenching such desires is by being in your presence.”

“Ah… Oh… I see…” Shuichi flickered his eyes around the room as he thought to himself. But his next words proved that Korekiyo’s hint had fallen on oblivious ears once again. “Are you just saying that you don’t want to be left alone? I… I understand that feeling, Shinguji-kun. I don’t want to be alone either, but… but we can’t get anything done this way, you know? If we’re both sick and not at the best of our abilities, then it’s going to slow down progress to escape from here, and we can’t have that. I want us to be at our best and I would really, really hate it if I got you sick, especially after all that you’ve done for me, you know?” Korekiyo knew. He just didn’t want it to be so. It felt like two magnets being torn apart from one another.

It hurt.

\--

He had been pulled aside after breakfast. “Shinguji-kun…” Shuichi wiped his nose with a tissue as he frowned. “You shouldn’t have snapped at Ouma-kun like that, just because he wanted to sit next to me… I’m…” He sighed. “I don’t want to have anyone fighting with each other. Especially because you’re all my friends.”

“‘Friend’?” Korekiyo didn’t bother to stop the huff that left his lips. “What a distasteful word. We do not encompass something as simple as ‘friendship.’” Was it something to get upset about? Yes and no. And Korekiyo wasn’t usually one for such childish endeavors. He prided himself on his precocious maturity. Sometimes under special circumstances it seemed to melt away though.

“Ah, Shinguji-kun, please don’t get upset.” He excused himself for a moment to sneeze. When he turned back around, his expression had turned to something sober. Something too earnest for such a dainty face like his. “I… think I understand what’s going on here.”

Korekiyo crossed his arms. “Do you now?” Shuichi nodded.

“I-I think I do. And if I’m right, then… we can discuss it once we leave the Academy. When we don’t have anything to worry about anymore and we’re free. But for now, I’m going to get some rest. Maybe you should too so that you won’t catch my cold, alright?”

_Why can’t we discuss it now?_

_You don’t have a cold. You’re in the process of carrying Sister inside you._

_Sister trusts you for a reason. She’s chosen you for a reason. Let us discover that reason together._

_Please. Please, come back. I’ve been lonely for so long._

“I hope that you have a good rest, Saihara-kun.”

\--

Sister finally returned. After a rapid series of dreams that were just purely Shuichi, Shuichi, Shuichi, her reappearance only reminded him why he was so tearful and desperate and hopeless. He immediately dropped to his knees in front of her, head bowed in defeat, as he murmured, “Sister. All I ask for is a clear answer. Why have you been ignoring me lately?”

“I can only answer your question with another question. And perhaps your answer will answer your own question for me.” His head shot up in confusion. She wasn’t even looking at him, but looking forward.

“What is it, Sister?”

“There, it’s _that_. ‘Sister.’ What is my name?”

“…Huh?”

“That is my question: what is my name? Do you know it?”

“Do I…? Of course, I do.” A nervous laugh spilled out of him. “Sister, please, just tell me why—”

“Only if you can tell me what my name is.” He could literally feel his heart pound against his ribcage, like a feral lion trying to escape its cold iron bars of confinement. “See, you don’t remember, do you?”

“I-I-I do, just…” He wrapped his arms around himself and leaned his head down until it was nearly against the ground. “J-Just give me a moment.” All those times that he had tried to remember something but his memory would only expand so far were hitting him hard now. _Why? Why? Why? Why?_ It didn’t make any sense. Why couldn’t he remember her name? It was something so simple, something that should have come automatic to him. She looked at him now, looked at him the way someone would look at a stranger with pity, with good intentions.

“W-Why…?” _Why can’t I remember?_

“Perhaps because,” she whispered, like someone was listening in on them, like they were no longer the only two left in the universe anymore, “it’s all an illusion.”

He woke up drenched in a cold sweat.

Before the thoughts could completely take over, he practically stumbled as he raced to warp a series of rope around his fingers and hands. Enough to resist the urge to claw his nails into his arms, to rip into them and let the blood trail down and drip on to the bedsheets– faster than any of his victims’ ever could. He never had a panic attack that reached such extreme levels before. His body was quaking. Nothing made sense. Why couldn’t he remember her name? _Sister isn’t real? Shuichi isn’t being possessed by her spirit?_

Then _they_ came. The images. They burned before his eyelids. The twisted part of his mind’s way of telling him how the cure to his distress: _bury him_. Bury the boy alive. Bury him alive and personally stomp on his grave.

Everything wasn’t as it seemed? For once, that was true?

He cried himself back to sleep.

> SESSION III: _AGAPE_  
>  the purest form of love. willing to endure difficulty that arises from partner’s circumstances. unbreakable commitment. unconditional, selfless love. all giving. undying love. compassion and selflessness. view partners as blessings. feelings of guilt. martyrdom.  
>  [see: the bible, _titanic_ , or _kriegspiel_ ]

“Are you available for a private conversation?”

“Ah, yes. Right now actually. I’m, um, always ready to talk to you. Is… there something wrong, Shinguji-kun?”

“My… recent behavior has unfortunately been constructed on top of a shaky and unfounded foundation, so my suggestion is that we cut off this ‘relationship’ for the betterment of our future inside of this Academy.” It must have been because the other was so undeniably sick that Korekiyo could feel his heart actually _clench_. The sadness and the shock on the other intensified by the tenfold. “If this continues, then it would inevitably develop into an unhealthy coping mechanism that will be detrimental to our plans of escape—is that not a concern for you? You had mentioned this before, yes?”

“I… That was something temporary because I didn’t want to get you sick. W-What you’re saying is something… something _permanent_. Shinguji-kun, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing significant,” he immediately waved off. “A… ‘friendship’ such as this that is this intense can be terrifying—simple as that.” Korekiyo nodded before he turned to make his leave. He felt something tug at his sleeve. He looked down to see Shuichi’s fingers curl into the sleeve of his jacket before he slowly pulled away. (Not as if the touch burned him. Why is that…?)

“Y-You don’t have to tell me what happened, Shinguji-kun. But I’ll give you space if you need it. Once I feel better again, and you feel better again, then we can talk about it, alright?”

“Hm,” Korekiyo crossed his arms over his chest, “I think not. We are supposed to escape, no? I am going to stick to the original plan then: I am going to sit back and observe and see how you all come up with this alleged escape plan. I am officially reverting back to my isolationist ideals. It has never failed me before.”

“But… isn’t that lonely?” Korekiyo took an unconscious step back. “I mean, I can understand that. But reaching out to you, and Akamatsu-san and Momota-kun and everyone else, it’s the best feeling that I’ve had in a long time. And I think it’s the same for you, when you’re with me. I don’t think you would have reached out to me first if it wasn’t true. Or that you would be so… so _adamant_ about _this_.” Korekiyo took another step back. “S-Shinguji-kun, a—?”

“We can continue this discussion tomorrow.”

\--

Shuichi still wasn’t feeling well. He looked like he was on the worse end of his cold actually. “I will make this brief,” Korekiyo started.

“Ah, no, you don’t have to. Please. Just say what you have to say.”

“I… I had a dream of Sister—which is not unusual—and in my dream she asked me what her name was and… _I couldn’t remember_. I then started drawing one conclusion after another and… perhaps something of my memory of her has been tainted. I cannot be certain of this theory. Whenever I try to think back about her, I simply _can’t_ but I have always ignored it and dispelled it before because I knew that…” _This is pathetic._ He had to look down with a smile. “I knew that I was too _weak_ to go on without some type of coping mechanism, as I too am still human at the end of the day, no matter how far my knowledge may expand, I too need something to fall back on in order to go on…” His proclamation on how Sister was not as she seemed had to be cut short. He couldn’t bear to get upset again, especially in front of such good company as Shuichi.

“Ah… It might just be a dream then, Shinguji-kun. It may be because of the conditions we’re in. You could just be being forgetful. I-I am too lately. But we can work through it together.” He laid his hand on top of the other. Korekiyo stared down at the other’s fingers curling into his own.

“No.”

“…No?”

“It is not something I wish to explore because I have decided to ignore it.”

“You… W-What?”

“It is a dream, yes? A dream that means nothing, does it? Ah… You’ve caught me. That was a contradiction, hm? I have told you before that your dreams of Akamatsu-san mean something. Perhaps I have told you that because I wanted to believe that Sister was speaking to me. I will give up on that too. I have decided to give up on everything. I have observed everyone’s roles here and I must return to my own. I do not wish to be out of character and disturb the harmony in such a manner.”

“Shinguji-kun,” his hand squeezed on top of the other’s, “there’s no such thing as ‘roles’ or ‘characters.’ We’re all just people. People are more complex than that—you above all people should know that. D-Don’t you always talk about beauty all the time? If you were looking at yourself right now from my perspective, would you consider yourself ‘beautiful’ in this moment, someone who is just… giving up?”

The words cut deeper than a knife ever could. Korekiyo’s plan was torn to shreds. He was supposed to reveal the complete connection that he thought was between Sister and Shinguji. He was even going to take off his mask to show that the trust (and the emotion and the love above all) built between them would never be broken. But everything had going astray. All that was left was a shallow sense of heartbrokenness.

Korekiyo patted his hand on top of the other’s, even squeezed and traced his fingers down his wrist, before he disconnected them and stood up. “I have to go.”

“S-Shingu—”

\--

Sister appeared again in his dream. He still kneeled before her. He wasn’t in the mood for begging tonight. “Our… previous encounter has caused for me to question everything. So, therefore, I am going to question nothing. I am going back to ‘square one,’ as they say. Nothing lost, nothing gained.”

“But you had the opportunity to gain knowledge and lose something worthless—me.”

“I have especially been chosen for this role—to be so disgusting, and to be so madly in love with my own _sister_ and no one else, and to be so vile—and if I do not fulfill this role, then everything crumbles. Nothing can move forward. No one can embark on their journey to true beauty together and that would be an absolute horrid thing to disrupt, would it not?”

“What about the feeling you experienced? The pain in your chest?”

“I will ignore that also.”

“It was an opportunity for you to achieve happiness. Why would you not seize it?”

“Perhaps it is because in the twisted mind that I have been given, true happiness would be not my own self-gratification but from my selfish desires to see _him_ happy. Once I become a spirit also, I will be able to watch over him and perhaps we will meet each again, in another life, and I may achieve permanent happiness instead of this temporary one. That is why I have reached the decision that I have made.”

“…You are being nonsensical.”

“Perhaps, yes. But is that not what my role is all about, doing this that no one else would do or understand? And besides, I always have my dreams to look forward to. That is what drove me to come after the real thing after all.” And that was a confession that quieted “Sister” and one that he could sleep soundly on.


End file.
